Releasing the Billionaire's Passion (5 page)

“What are you having for dinner? And who is with you?”

Fiona grabbed the spoon from the drawer and slammed it shut with a flip of her hip. “Oh, I’m alone. What’s up? Why are you calling this late at night?” She glanced at the clock over her microwave. “Aren’t you still at the office?”

Charles tossed some papers onto his desk, looking out the window. “Yes. I’m still at the office. How did you know?’

“Because you’re always at the office until seven in the evening.”

He glanced at his watch. It was a quarter to seven. “Not always,” he grumbled, but he honestly had no idea when the last time he’d been home before seven thirty. “Anyway, what are you having for dinner? Something nutritious I hope.”

Fiona scooped a dollop of ice cream onto her spoon. “Oh yes. Very nutritious.”

“Are you eating cookies again?” he asked, thinking of the last time he’d called around dinner time and she was eating cookies while watching some reality show on the television. Another time, she’d been munching on popcorn and watching a show about dancing. The woman really didn’t know how to take care of herself.

“No. I’m not eating cookies,” she asserted firmly but smiled about the last time he’d called. She hadn’t been eating cookies that last time. She’d had a very healthy salad but she’d wanted to poke him just a bit. He’d been so irritated that he’d sent over a meal from one of the local restaurants. It was almost as good as him actually being there with her. Almost.

“Look, I don’t know what you’re eating, but just put it away and come over to my place. I’ll make sure you eat something healthy and I have some papers for you to sign.”

Fiona didn’t know what he was talking about and that scared her. “Charles, what have you done?” she asked, the spoon with the ice cream frozen in mid-air.

“Don’t you trust me?” he asked, a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

She laughed and quickly said, “No. Not at all.”

“That’s harsh, my beauty. I’ll swing by to pick you up.”

“No!” she gasped. “I can’t…”

“Fiona, you really need to sign these papers.”

She looked down at her leggings and big tee-shirt. “I’ll just come by your office tomorrow. My apartment is out of your way.”

“It isn’t too bad. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” and he hung up.

She stared at her ice cream then down at her leggings. She’d worn jeans earlier today but the dogs had messed them up. When she’d gotten home, she’d changed, but she still smelled like dogs.

After ending the call, she tossed her cell phone onto the counter. She slapped the top of the ice cream on the container and practically threw it into the freezer. Darn him for calling on a night when she really needed a break from him. She’d spent the morning in his company and she still hadn’t gotten over his touch in her future bedroom. Or her almost future bedroom. She was fairly sure that he wasn’t going to allow her to buy that house. Not that he could stop her if she really wanted to. She had most of her money in another bank where he couldn’t monitor her spending. The checking account in his bank was just for show. She knew that he watched what she was doing, which was why…

She didn’t have time for this! She sprinted out of her kitchen and dove into the shower, trying to quickly rinse off the scent of dog. After drying off, she pulled on a clean pair of jeans and her favorite short sleeved sweater, telling herself that she just wanted to look nice for him. She wished she had a really sleek pair of slacks, or a nice dress that would look sophisticated. She should go shopping, she thought as she flipped her hair out of her way so she could dab on some mascara and a touch of lipstick.

She was just placing her lipstick onto her dressing table when the doorbell rang. Looking around the apartment, she checked to make sure everything was hidden. All of her secret jobs were buried away from his too-knowing, most-likely disapproving eyes.

As much as she desired Charles, deep down she knew that he was much too conservative to fit into her life. Nor could she ever mold herself into the perfect society wife for him. It was a lose-lose situation.

She had to keep that in mind as she opened the door for him.

“You really didn’t have to…” she started to speak but her words halted as she took in his appearance. “You’re not wearing a tie!”

Charles glared at the woman in the tight, red sweater. It wasn’t obscene or anything, but her full breasts – larger than they should be on such a tiny woman – were further enhanced by that sweater. And her jeans hung low on her hips, showing just a small expanse of smooth, soft, white skin between her jeans and sweater. He almost groaned out loud at how enticing that small patch of skin looked to him.

Why the hell was he reacting like this to Fiona? He’d always dated cool, conservative women who knew the way things worked. Georgette, for instance, was the kind of woman that was perfect for him. She was the antithesis of Fiona! But he felt absolutely nothing when he saw Georgette. Not like this fiery little woman every time he was near her.

“Let’s go,” he snapped, irritated with his blatant lack of self-discipline.

Fiona was intimidated by his harsh glare and had no idea why he was so angry with her. It wasn’t like she’d asked him to come over. She’d been perfectly happy with the peach ice cream for her evening meal.

“Charles, you don’t need to feed me,” she asserted, wishing she could just curl up because of his anger. She had no idea what she’d done to anger him but she didn’t like it. “I can…”

He turned back to her, looming over her and she didn’t understand the look in his amber eyes. It made her heart start beating a bit faster, as if he were hungry for more than food. But that was crazy! This was Charles and he was looking at her!

Charles knew he was going more than a bit nuts. First her “threesome” this afternoon and now this sweater and her soft body making his own practically throb with the need to possess her, to show her all the things he could do to her. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to calm down. He tried valiantly to avoid looking at that soft skin still revealed by her short sweater. “I have those papers in my car, and I’m in the mood to cook something. So I’ll feed you, then I’ll go over the papers so that you can understand them.”

Again he turned around, but this time, he took her hand and pulled her behind him. He only paused to give her time to pull her door closed before he was heading back down the hallway.

“You need to live in a better building,” he grumbled as they took the stairs. Apparently the elevator wasn’t working again today.

She almost laughed at his irritation but stifled her amusement, too thrilled to be holding his hand. And how pathetic was that? She was almost tripping over her feet simply because the man was holding her hand? A simple touch could make her stupid, she realized.

Ah, the life of a secret love, she thought. Hmm…perhaps that could work out well in a book. She looked up at him as he held the heavy, steel fire door open for her. They walked out into the humid sunshine and she almost skipped as the idea for a new story built up in her mind. Yes, this could work, she thought with relish. And she knew exactly what the man would look like. Glancing up at Charles, she suddenly realized that all of her main characters looked extremely similar to him.

Okay, that was a no brainer, she thought and almost chuckled. Yes, all of her fantasies were centered around this one man. Of course her male characters would look like him.

Charles was holding the door to his beautiful car open for her, but he stopped, looking at her strangely again. “What were you thinking about just now?” he asked.

Charles wanted to understand this woman for some reason. She was stunningly beautiful and he couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off of that small space of skin. Damn, he wanted to touch her, to taste her!

And then she blushed! Oh hell! Fiona blushing was just about the sexiest thing he’d ever seen! It colored her cheeks with a becoming shade of pink. None of this blotchy stuff that he’d seen on fresh faced teenagers. Nope, his Fiona was even more beautiful.

That color, as well as the way her long, black lashes fluttered downwards to hide her eyes from his view intrigued him. Yet another layer of Fiona Chandler that he wanted to discover. A dangerous curiosity, he knew.

“Oh, I was just thinking about…” she waved her hand in the air as if she needed to dismiss her thoughts. Or cool her now-burning cheeks down. “Nothing in particular.”

Charles moved closer, sensing a shyness in her that he’d never witnessed before. Normally, Fiona was bold and brash, rushing into things too quickly. He suspected that she didn’t know that the word “caution” existed in the English language because she certainly didn’t use it very often.

“I think it was something very particular,” he argued. “And I believe, no, I know, that I’m very interested to know what goes inside your pretty brain.”

Fiona tried to think, tried to come up with a pithy response. She wanted to say something that would make him laugh or show him that she wasn’t a silly little girl. But he was too close and, oh my, he smelled incredibly nice. Why had she never smelled that woodsy scent on him before? It was almost the complete opposite of how she thought of him, but it suited him perfectly.

“Where’s your tie?” she whispered, looking up into those amber eyes of his, her whole body trembling with awareness of him as a man and his strength, the power behind his body. “And you’re not wearing the suit’s vest either.”

Charles knew that wasn’t what she’d been thinking a moment ago, but his firm lips softened into a slight smile. “It is ninety-five degrees out here with eighty-four percent humidity, Fiona. It’s too hot to wear a tie and a vest.”

She blinked, completely agreeing with him but still…she’d never seen him without both of them before. “But why now? Do you always take it off when you leave the office?”

He shook his head. “No. Only when I’m picking up fascinating females.”

Another startling comment. He found her fascinating? No! Not possible. “Are you meeting someone after I sign the papers?” Her eyes dropped to his lips, wondering if they would be as firm as they looked or if they would soften when he kissed a woman. She was dying to find out. Her heart sped up even faster and she thought she might just pass out if he didn’t lean down and kiss her.

“No Fiona. I’m going to cook you dinner and then I’m going to explain the papers I have for you.”

That broke through the sexual fantasy she was having, starring him without the tie or the vest. And without anything else. She blushed again and shook her head. “Right. Papers.”

Once more, Charles knew that he wanted to know what she was thinking. But the spell had been broken.

He should have kissed her, he thought. He should have just found out what it would be like to kiss her soft, full lips, to know what she tasted like.

He slammed the car door after her feet were tucked inside the car, groaning out loud at the idea of tasting all of her and not just her lips. His body hardened and he went around the back of the car, giving himself a few extra moments to get himself back under control.

Getting into the driver’s seat, he looked over at her and smelled her soft, feminine scent. Unfortunately, his body hardened with that flowery smell floating around the car. “Right,” he said and pressed the button to start the engine. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

Fiona looked in the back seat of the car, amazed that the black interior was spotless. “You don’t eat in your car, do you?”

“Of course not,” he replied, his concentration focused on the night time traffic. “Why would you ask that?”

She thought about her ole bucket of rust that was terribly abused as she was rushing from one place to another. She really should clean that out, she thought. “Just an observation,” she replied, not wanting to admit that her car wasn’t nearly as pristine. Of course, his started up on command, she thought with jealousy. Hers was a bit more mercurial.

“So what are these papers you need me to sign?”

“I can’t really explain them without the numbers in front of me. It will only confuse you more, so let’s wait until after I’ve cooked you dinner.”

He maneuvered through some cars and turned left, merging onto highway ten, which was the main highway through the city. It brought commuters across the bridge from Slidell, curved around Lake Pontchartrain and then headed all the way out to Baton Rouge and beyond. But Charles didn’t go beyond the heart of New Orleans, getting off of the highway and heading down Third Street.

“Just as I suspected,” Fiona muttered as she watched the gorgeous homes fly by the window.

“What did you suspect?” Charles asked as he slowed down at a wrought iron gate that seemed to magically open for him.

“That you’d live in the Garden District.” When he pulled up to the house, her breath caught in her throat. “Oh Charles!” she gasped, staring at the enormous Victorian house with all the intricate trim work and enormous windows that made New Orleans famous. But not only that, the huge yard was filled with flowering trees and elegant hedges, trimmed to perfection and dancing in the heat of the evening as if trying to cool themselves down however possible. “This is beautiful!”

Stepping out of the car, she walked almost reverently to stand at the front of the house, just taking in all of the details. She felt Charles beside her and turned to smile at him, blocking out the evening sun with her hand. “You must throw a lot of parties, don’t you?” she asked dreamily. She’d love to have a big space to have all of her friends around where they could relax and laugh, just socialize. Unfortunately, her apartment in the Lake District was too small. She could barely fit into her kitchen, and there was only room for one couch and a chair in her den area plus her small, crowded desk. Other than that, there was her bedroom and small bathroom.